2010 Reading #43: The Magicians by Lev Grossman
Books 1-10.
Books 11-20.
Books 21-30.
Books 31-40.
41. When Baghdad Ruled the Muslim World: The Rise and Fall of Islam's Greatest Dynasty by Hugh Kennedy.
42. The Suffrage of Elvira by V.S. Naipaul.
43. The Magicians by Lev Grossman. It's unlikely I'm going to say anything new about this book at this point. Grossman's magic-college approach has widely been referred to as a grown-up Harry Potter, but it's the Narnia cycle that he leans on most heavily. Before I say more, I want to note that I believe Grossman is sincerely fond of fantasy literature, in much the same way that Junot Diaz clearly is; but while The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao was unashamed about that fondness, much of The Magicians reads like an apologia. Oscar's obsession with genre was both virtue and vice; in the case of Quentin Coldwater, Grossman's protagonist, we are frequently told that his belief in, adeptness with, and fondness for magic are symptomatic of some deep character flaw. That might even be OK, if this was in aid of peeling away the layers of Quentin's character, but it's really not. There isn't much of a there, there. Quentin is thrust upon the reader as a fully formed misfit, entering Brakebills (read: Hogwarts) with barely any past at all aside from an obsession for the Fillory (read: Narnia) books. He's more checklist than person: smart, unhappy, driven, alienated. Some of Grossman's characters manage to acquire personalities over the course of the book, but it's an accretion of episodes rather than any sense of separate identities that does it. The cast is also a few characters larger than it needs to be, so that by the end it feels crowded with more-or-less interchangeable people. And not to dogpile, but the settings feel by-the-numbers for the most part; the world-building goes beyond parody or tribute and becomes lazy. The book does have its moments. When Grossman takes the trouble to pick out the details, he does so wonderfully, and the antagonist is truly frightening. And Grossman isn't to blame for the fact that his book was hyped as mind-bogglingly original and ground-breaking meta-fantasy--I doubt any book could live up to the sort of copy he got. He's writing about disillusionment, about the After-Happily-Ever, about growing up, and that's fine, but it's also familiar. For an audience with only a cursory familiarity with fantasy literature, this book might do the trick nicely; for me it was intermittently charming but overall frustrating.
Books 11-20.
Books 21-30.
Books 31-40.
41. When Baghdad Ruled the Muslim World: The Rise and Fall of Islam's Greatest Dynasty by Hugh Kennedy.
42. The Suffrage of Elvira by V.S. Naipaul.
43. The Magicians by Lev Grossman. It's unlikely I'm going to say anything new about this book at this point. Grossman's magic-college approach has widely been referred to as a grown-up Harry Potter, but it's the Narnia cycle that he leans on most heavily. Before I say more, I want to note that I believe Grossman is sincerely fond of fantasy literature, in much the same way that Junot Diaz clearly is; but while The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao was unashamed about that fondness, much of The Magicians reads like an apologia. Oscar's obsession with genre was both virtue and vice; in the case of Quentin Coldwater, Grossman's protagonist, we are frequently told that his belief in, adeptness with, and fondness for magic are symptomatic of some deep character flaw. That might even be OK, if this was in aid of peeling away the layers of Quentin's character, but it's really not. There isn't much of a there, there. Quentin is thrust upon the reader as a fully formed misfit, entering Brakebills (read: Hogwarts) with barely any past at all aside from an obsession for the Fillory (read: Narnia) books. He's more checklist than person: smart, unhappy, driven, alienated. Some of Grossman's characters manage to acquire personalities over the course of the book, but it's an accretion of episodes rather than any sense of separate identities that does it. The cast is also a few characters larger than it needs to be, so that by the end it feels crowded with more-or-less interchangeable people. And not to dogpile, but the settings feel by-the-numbers for the most part; the world-building goes beyond parody or tribute and becomes lazy. The book does have its moments. When Grossman takes the trouble to pick out the details, he does so wonderfully, and the antagonist is truly frightening. And Grossman isn't to blame for the fact that his book was hyped as mind-bogglingly original and ground-breaking meta-fantasy--I doubt any book could live up to the sort of copy he got. He's writing about disillusionment, about the After-Happily-Ever, about growing up, and that's fine, but it's also familiar. For an audience with only a cursory familiarity with fantasy literature, this book might do the trick nicely; for me it was intermittently charming but overall frustrating.